Page 38 of The Wulver's Bond
Don’t be so smug, wolfie. You deserve some punishment for this.
For making me feel this way.
‘Sleep well?’ Moss asked. He flounced over to the stone bench, ensuring that his frock coat flapped all the way open on the way.
Arran did an adorable double-take at the flash of his naked body and quickly averted his gaze. ‘Yes. You were no bother, if that’s what you mean.’
‘I didn’t think I was.’ Moss sipped his tea. ‘But you were dry-humping me all night.’
Arran’s claws audibly clattered on the rock floor as he startled to a standstill. ‘I wasnot.’ He sounded utterly mortified and his ears bent right back. ‘Was I?’
‘Like a rutting bull,’ Moss crooned. He set down the cup and sauntered toward the mouth of the cave. ‘I expect I have bruises, you know. That big dick of yours is a menace.’
Arran followed him, drawn by the bait, though a note of suspicion entered his voice. ‘If I’ve caused you any discomfort it was entirely unintentional…’
‘Discomfort! What an understatement.’ Moss felt for the creepers outside; latched onto a stronger set of roots that he persuaded to slink closer. Having rounded the corner he twirled, leaving his back to the fresh breeze of morning air, and pointed a finger into the Wulver’s chest. He couldn’t hold back the grin from his face, which in hindsight was a dead giveaway. ‘I demand recompense for your disregard of my personal boundaries.’
‘Recompense?’ Arran stared down at his finger and raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure I believe you. Have I truly overstepped a boundary of yours?’
‘Yes,’ Moss said firmly, slinking into Arran’s warmth. ‘The one where you steppedoutof my personal space. I want you within shagging distance at all times. In fact, if your dick is not in my ass I’m gonna take it as a sign of disrespect.’
Feeling somehow bolder than he had in years, Moss slung both his arms around Arran’s neck, stretching on tiptoes to pull the wolfman’s head right down so they were nose to nose.
Arran stumbled under his onslaught, already breathing heavily. ‘Moss,’ he rasped, his claws digging into Moss’s back. ‘Don’t be foolish.’
Moss stared into his beautiful eyes, speaking with all the petulance he could muster. ‘I want your dick.Now.’
Arran slammed him against the cave wall, which was fuckingexhilarating. Moss gasped a laugh, overjoyed by the harsh scrape of rock and the Wulver’s biting grip. But a flash of panic in Arran’s eyes reminded him to slow the pace. Was the big dumb wolf really so worried about hurting him?
Don’t worry wolfie, I got you.
Striking like vipers, Moss trained his small army of foliage on Arran’s throat, wrists, and ankles. With a howl the wolfman was hurled away from Moss and dragged to the round cave opening. Moss fluttered his hands to direct the vines, stretching Arran’s arms and legs out diagonally.
‘You planned this,’ the Wulver wheezed through bared fangs. His dick was big and obvious, poking out the top of his jeans. The poor thing looked distraught.
Moss ambled up to Arran. ‘Of course I did. It wouldn’t do to befoolish.’
With a quick flick of a vine he undid the top button constraining the Wulver’s eager dick. It dropped under its own weight as the jeans were tugged away. Moss sucked in his lower lip, already imagining the feel of it in his mouth. It was a real beast of a thing, visibly pulsing as blood flowed through its thick veins. He hadn’t had the chance to taste it properly, yet.
Their previous time together had been too rushed. He’d make sure this time wasslow.
‘I’m going to keep you ungagged this time,’ Moss said, trailing his fingers through the shallow fur over Arran’s hips. ‘I want to hear every howl your lungs have to give. And youwillhowl.’
He darted to Arran’s dick and squeezed. It expelled a gush of precum while Arran let out a ferocious grunt. Moss pressed his thumb into the slit, kneading it roughly. He could hear Arran’s teeth grinding and smirked up at him.
‘Want me to stop?’
‘No.’
It was barely Arran’s voice, like some other creature had taken over. Moss’s heart jumped at the hunger in it. His own body hungered in return.
With his free hand creeping under Arran’s hoodie, he explored the Wulver’s thick chest. It was packed with muscle beneath the fur, and hidden deep in the fluff around his pecs Moss discovered a nipple. He pinched it. Arran spasmed in his restraints with a feral snarl.
‘I don’t know why you wear this ugly thing. Who are you hiding from out here?’ In a complicated manoeuvring of roots and vines, Moss managed to tug the damned hoodie off the Wulver’s body. Arran had a brief altercation with the foliage as one of his arms came free, but Moss got him contained and nicely stretched out again with little trouble.
Now that he had full access, Moss spread out the fur around Arran’s left nipple to get a better look. It was dark grey, like the skin of Arran’s palms, and currently hard to the touch.
Moss closed his mouth around it and sucked. The reactive growl deep within Arran’s ribcage quivered against his lips. Moss circled the nipple with his tongue. He tickled the very tip of the firm nub and then leisurely pushed it to and fro in his mouth while the Wulver’s body bucked against him.
